Beautiful Disaster
by Karr
Summary: ...and so the life of the child began - a life full of mystery, both wondrous and horrible. Here begins the story of Elaine McKinely - a story of her unknown belonging - and how she got it back.
1. Prologue

A/N: This story came from an odd impulse. I have a feeling this is going to turn out well, and I hope for the best. Reviews are the backbone to all writers, and I won't apologize for asking you to do me a favor. 

~**~

**Title:** Beautiful Disaster

**Author: **Karr

**Rating: **PG-13

~**~

**Disclaimer: **I usually make a joke of this, but since this is the _first_ chapter, I suppose I could withhold from using sarcasm this _once_. All objects, places, characters to/or related to Tamora Pierce are strictly hers. However the following characters, places, and such belong to Karr: Elaine McKinley, Paco Fairgo, Harriet Fairgo, Burne Fairgo, Nathan Sawyer, Poshbrook, Raymond Bask, King Marcus of Apollo, Queen Simone of Apollo, Prince Anthony of Apollo, Damian of Constance, Lorraine of Constance, Lauryn of Constance, Shayna of Constance, Armond of Apollo, and Jacqueline of Constance.

~**~

Prologue 

**  (431 H.E.) **

  With the sole exception of a drunken guard, the halls of the Gallan palace were deserted. Thanks to the drug-induced ale he had consumed, the middle-aged man was a humorous sight. Slumped against the wall, eyes half-closed, he mumbled idly. Being as intoxicated as the guard was, had one wanted to siege the castle, it would have been theirs for the taking. Fortunately for the residents housed within the palace walls, the night was calm and without invaders. 

   Snoring quietly, the pitiful guard took no notice as a maid slipped by him silently. The woman expertly unlocked the door soundlessly. Had this not been the back of the palace, her departure would have been impossible, for both the front and side entrances were far to heavily guarded and bolted. It took only moments before she was securely out of the palace – thick in forest. There would be no other guards; of this the woman was certain. The King – that impudent ass – would have them fencing drunk for his own pleasure. The laughter that echoed from with the palace walls only confirmed her thoughts. 

   Cloaked in black, the woman blended with the midnight sky. In her hand she carried a basket, draped with a black veil. She hastened her way through the trees, handling the basket with care.  Uncanny, the limping trees had no affect on the woman. Her mind was elsewhere – her body carrying further into the dreary night. 

  She traveled in this manner without rest. Only upon the rising of the crimson sun did she stop. The deathly trees had ended a league back – leaving her in wondrously open grasslands. She shaded her eyes – looking towards the east. Her glance fell upon a wooden cabin, comfortably sitting on the horizon.

   ~**~

   A young, handsome man stood in the doorway of the wooden cabin, looking at the woman who stood before him. She held herself with composure, trying to hide her obvious fatigue. Silently, the woman took off her hood, revealing a youthful face and delicate lips. She smiled thinly. "Is he here?" 

  "Yes – he's asleep. He traveled for two weeks to be her, Lori." 

  She nodded. "I know."  

  A quiet wail interrupted. He nodded to the basket. "How is she?" 

   "She sleeps – I couldn't take a chance. I used a sleeping powder." She shook as she looked down. "He wanted to say goodbye." 

   The man sighed and nodded, running a hand threw his black hair. "Come in. You need to sleep."

   ~**~

    "Raymond, I have no choice. If she stays – gods – her blood and Damian's will be on my hands." Lori said, unable to continue. Both sat at a table, which was centered in the middle of a scarcely furnished room. In her hands, Lori held a cup of unseasoned tea, a strong remedy that battled her drowsiness. It was late afternoon, and her husband still slept. 

     Raymond grimaced. " – And you want me to take her?" 

    Lori nodded. "You are the only one Damian and I can trust. We are not in favor at court, least of all with the King and his Queen! Please Raymond, I cannot bear the thought of --." 

    Raymond held up is hands, silencing her. "—I will do as you ask, for the sake of the child."  

  Young Lori, beautiful as she was naïve, bit her lip. Her hair was a decided deep auburn, falling softly past her shoulders, curling neatly. Her skin was naturally tan, bringing depth to her long lashes and stormy eyes. She looked down. "I am sorry, Raymond." 

   He stood and turned away. She didn't need to explain. " I wish you weren't. Then – I would have a reason to be angry. Lori – your heart doesn't give you the power of choosing who you love." He stopped. "I'll get more tea." Leaving the room, he walked down a corridor that ran to his kitchen. 

  She looked down at the basket, her child sleeping still. Since their arrival that morning, the child had only awakened twice – briefly, and only to be fed. She was still in quite slumber from the drug.  With a moan, Lori covered her face with her hands. "I want to die." She mumbled quietly. 

    "Please don't. My life would be awfully lonely without you."  

    Lori jerked her head up quickly. In the doorframe directly in front of her stood her love.  Black hair tousled, he wore fawn breeches and a pallid tunic. He smiled. 

   It was all she needed. Almost knocking over her chair, she ran to him. He picked her up in a tight grasp. She pulled back to look at him. "Your awake." Her eyes darkened with vulnerability. "--Oh gods Damian, I didn't know what to—." 

    He kissed her gently. "I know. I'm here now." He looked down at her black cloak and smiled. "Is that how you passed the guards?" 

    She grinned. "I've found that maids have more freedoms than that of the common lady, Damian." 

     "Ah – but you are not a common lady." He smiled and leaned down to kiss her --.

     "Good afternoon, your grace."  Both Lori and Damian looked over to see Raymond carrying fresh tea. Walking to the empty table, he placed it down gently. Looking at Lori, he smiled, though his eyes betrayed a different emotion. He motioned to the tea. "Its cinnamon. You seem awake, so I took the liberty of making some." 

   Lori nodded. "Thank you." She said, releasing herself from Damian. 

   "Same to you, Raymond." Damian said, walking to the table. He pulled out a chair and looked at Lori and Raymond. "Shall we talk?" 

   Lori hesitated. "Right now?"

   Raymond looked at her. "The sooner we get this over with --." 

   "Fine." She said agitated. She dreaded what Raymond would have said. "Let's talk." 

  ~**~

    "You want me to take your child to this woman?" Raymond asked, his face bland. 

      "Yes – she is in my debt and was loyal to my mother." Lori told him. 

      He nodded. "Will you leave her with anything?" 

      Silently, Lori reached into an inside pocket of her cloak, pulling out a small purse and a letter. She sat them on the table. "It's fifty gold pence, enough to keep her comfortable until she is old enough to be on her own." 

    "_Gold_ pence?"  Raymond's voice was tense. "Why not standard kingdom pence?"

    Damian had been quiet throughout the entire conversation, and only then did he speak up. "Raymond, she's --." 

    "Not residing in Galla." It was a statement, not a question. Raymond shook his head ruefully. "Gods, I should have--."

   "_Please_." 

   Both Raymond and Damian starred at Lori. Strong-headed, beautifully blunt Lori was _pleading._ Neither of them had ever seen her in such a helpless state. It was disconcerting. 

   Raymond cursed. He knew he had to help. He had known even before their arrival – and he _hated_ that – more than anything. 

    Damian broke the silence. "You can have anything you want, Raymond." 

   Raymond looked away, fists tight. Once his best friend – Damian of Constance – had forgotten much. Orphaned young, Raymond had worked his entire life in return for callused palms and a wooden cabin. He didn't want anything Damian or is bride could give. All he wanted was to be left alone – and then he knew.

   He dared not look at either of them. "I want you to let me live in peace. If I do this for you, I want you out of my life." 

   Lori grabbed for her husbands arm. Damian's face was blank – a sure sign he was hiding his thoughts. Raymond found himself examining his bare floor. He _would not_ look at Lori. 

   As soon as the words had escaped Raymond's mouth, silent tears ran slowly down her porcelain cheeks. Her eyes – those _wondrous_ storm eyes – pulled black – leaving only blankness. 

   No one spoke. 

   "If that it what you wish." It was Damian, his voice stressed. 

   "It is." 

   Damian sighed deeply. "Very well. You bring our child safely to Tortall, and we will no longer trouble you." 

  A quiet sneeze broke the spell. Simultaneously, they looked up across the room – their eyes all meeting on one object. The child sat quietly in her veiled basket, watching the three onlookers intently. She, ironically enough, had no notion of the journey she was about to undertake, nor of the destiny that awaited her. 

  Her parents – lovely, young, naïve, and endangered. 

  Raymond – the man who would take her away, and the only one who could bring her back. 

  She looked at them with all the innocence of the child she was. 

  "She has eyes very much like yours." Raymond said absently, watching the child keenly. "But – they are different. They are the gray of storm, that much is obvious. But – still – something is hidden in them." He thought to himself. Finally, he answered. "They are oleander eyes." 

"Oleander eyes." Lori whispered, hands still cupped in those of her husband. "I like that." 

~**~

   And so the life of the child began – a life full of mystery, both wondrous and horrible. Here begins the story of Elaine McKinley – a story of her unknown belonging -- and how she got it back.  

~**~

   A/N: Yes – well – I hope you enjoyed. I personally can't wait to find out what happens next. _Oleanders_ (Referring to the color of Elaine's eyes _and_ to the oleander flower) will play a large role in this story, however insignificant it may seem. If you curious, this will end up to have a handful of well-known Pierce characters entangled in the plot. One of the main ones will include Evin Larse. I'm a true believer that he doesn't get enough attention. Agree?

-Karr


	2. Another Life

A/N: Feel free to ask questions in reviews. I've notice many hesitate to voice their thoughts. It honestly gives me something to think about. -Karr

~**~

  **Chapter 1: Another Life**

~**~

**(447 H.E.)**

   Sapphire light peered through aged windowsills, reflecting dull light into the shadows, and signaling the arrival of dawn.

   It was unimaginably cold on this particular autumn morning, the air harsh from the brisk wind. Truthfully, it had been growing more ruthless with both the rise of the sun and moon, and the residents of Poshbrook were more lenient towards sprouting flowers than snow flurries. In past seasons, the autumns tended to be comfortable, rather than brutal. The same tendencies could be found in their winters - cold, but not viciously intense. Yet this season things were different. The unexpected weather significantly decreased the amount of travel in the southern towns of Tortall, and only those who had but one choice dared the frigid temperatures. 

  While the unpleasant weather took its toll on many of the local businesses, the weather was a blessing for the neighborhood tavern. Warm beds and food tempted those who weren't as well off, and gave a reason for its owner, Burne Fairgo, to smile wolfishly. 

   ~**~ 

  _Knock, Knock, Knock. _

  "Wake up, lass! We openin' a candlemark or so early - honest to hell - Ye can't tell me to you still a sleepin' in all? Nay, it's damn well past sunup!" 

   Elaine McKinley stood over her bed as she pulled up her sheets, shaking her head in amusement. Lovely and unaware, she stood five foot six with sinister brown curls that hung loosely to her elbows. Her skin was pure and deeper than that of most Tortallans, and her eyes were the mist of storm. Her mouth was decided, her chin stubborn. She was toned and muscular, and held her own. 

 Fully dressed, she had been fully awake for over a candlemark, and she was fully aware that Burne Fairgo was hollering at her.Her room was an older section of the inn that was no longer _suitable_ for service, and Burne knew he wasn't yelling loud enough for their guests to be disturbed. It was sparsely furnished, holding a wooden bed, a chair not fit for sitting on, and a small chest that held her few personal belongings. It had neither a fireplace, nor a table or bed stand, all of which the _suitable_ rooms held.

   _Knock, Slam, Boom. _

"Damn it, woman, less go for Mithros sake! Ye tryin' me patience and ye know it damn well!" 

  She did know, and it was the reason of her smile. _'Go ahead, Burne. Scream just a little more and maybe that dim-witted son of yours might actually wake-up and do something other than drink your ale and pass out - again. Considering it is his duty to open the tavern, anyhow --.'  _

  She walked over to her chair and picked up her apron, putting it on and tying it securely behind her waist. While listening to Burne's obscenities, she pinned her hair up loosely, allowing some strands to fall by her face. She looked down at the hollow of her neck and smiled. Her gold locket, her most valued possession, felt cool against her skin. Nathan Sawyer, her best friend, had given it to her on her ninth birthday. 

 Boom, Knock, Slam. 

The way her door was shaking, she was sure Burne was as frustrated as she could make him without getting him angry. With a sigh, she walked over and opened the door with a jerk, looking up at the six-foot beet that stood in front of her. 

  Burne glared down at her. "Bout' time." 

  She smiled mockingly. "Forgive me for my -." 

  He grunted. "No yer' not. Get down to the kitchen an' unlock the door. Go." 

   She didn't question. Burne was lenient with her only because he had to be. She was the only one who could cook well enough to please the tavern guests. He knew that if he mistreated her, she would leave. Elaine was sure that Harriet, Burne's deceased wife, had left him with clear instructions to keep her decent enough.  

  Harriet had been kind to her, but strict. She had taught Elaine to cook, and it was probably the only reason she was able to say at the Inn at all. As she walked down the wooden back stairs, she smiled in spite. _'After all, my parents did leave me on her doorsteps with nothing. She had no real reason to take me -- other than to train me to cook. What a blessing that turned out to be.'  _Even after sixteen years, Elaine spited every detail of her past - her unknown damned existence. 

   The stairs went directly to the kitchen, a small room that was always _too_ warm. Everything in the kitchen was brick, with the sole exception being a wooden floor, which was always _too_ cold. Endless counter encircled the room, a six-foot island residing in the middle. Pots and pans hung from the ceiling, while stacks of bowls and wooden ladles took up most of the left counter. A large washing bin was on the right counter, awaiting the days soiled dishes. The cellar was underground and it held but ale, stronger ale, and water to help ease the affect of the ale. The cellar door was hidden in the floor and even Burne had trouble finding the crack that opened it. 

   This morning, Elaine didn't even bother with the kitchen or its holdings. Instead, she walked through the door that connected it to the tavern. The tavern was large for a small town, big enough to take up half the stables. With a tavern counter on the left, tables sitting four occupied the rest of the room. It was clean, as it always was in the morning, for Burne mandated it cleaned after closing, and Elaine was the only one for the work. 

   She walked over to the main door and unlatched it. _Click._ It was the one thing that announced their opening, and it would soon be followed by mobs of town's people wanting warmth and food. 

   Elaine smiled at the salt residue that dusted the windows. It being early November, snow had come and gone, and on more than one occasion. 

_   'Alas, I'll be sixteen in less than a fortnight. Grand.'_ She thought dryly, walking back towards the kitchen. Winter had always been her favorite season, if only because of her birthday. Both days that she was free of labor happened in the winter.   After opening the tavern and doing her morning routine, Elaine was granted both her birthday and midwinter off. Midwinter was the busiest day of the year for the tavern, but she knew from experience that everyone would be far too drunk to remember anything the morning next. If she happened to go missing midwinter's night, nobody would question. 

  She knew she would have to begin preparing for the morning rush, beginning with fruits, breads, and cheese. _'Sixteen years of fruit, bread, and cheese and sixteen years of warmth and good food, but yet all that's left is cold and bitterness. Winter doesn't forgive, and neither do we.' _

Since before she could remember she had been an unwelcome guest at _Basin Inn_, and for the last sixteen years she had been trying to find a way out. With little more than what was on her person, she had nothing - and it was hard to travel with nothing. She knew she would eventually leave, but her untamed soul wanted more than what her adopted town had to offer, which was little more than shelter and work - and Elaine wasn't patient as a child. 

  She had no time to ponder - she rarely did, for her first tavern guest had arrived and requested a morning meal. 

~**~

  "Come now, Farrah, its not as if its poisonous." 

   "It might as well be." 

   Evin Larse grinned at his stubborn comrade. Camped a half-days ride from the nearest town, the 23rd Rider's group sat around a building fire.

   "Not a chance." Richard said flatly. "You might as well talk to a sapling. You'll get about as far." 

   Evin shrugged, biting into a piece of wheat bread. "Fine. Starve yourself." 

  Farrah, the only woman in the 23rd, rolled her eyes. "I will since you insist." 

  Evin pointed his bread at her. " The broth was made by a fine gentleman, you know." 

   She glared at him. "Yes - a fine gentleman made that broth - two weeks ago."   

   He put up his hands. "Its food." 

   She grunted. "Hardly." 

   William had been silent until that moment. He smiled. "She'll be alright until tonight. We're less than a day's ride to the nearest town. She'll hardly starve." 

   Farrah gave them a look of satisfaction. 

      "And have her be in a terrible mood all day? Tell me, have your young minds forgotten so quickly the last time she went without food? Mine hasn't."

    Everyone looked up to see Commander Saville leave his tent. In his hand he held a warm croissant. Throwing it to Farrah, she caught it easily. "Lass - on my orders you will eat that down to the last crumb." 

   He didn't have to tell her twice. Commander Saville had his own storage of food, and he portioned himself wisely. While the four had run out of croissant's days earlier, he still had an ample amount. Farrah didn't argue with croissants, and she didn't question his authority. 

  Saville grunted. "Well good. We leave within the candlemark. William's right - Poshbrook is well within distance today. We should arrive before sunset tonight. The town's large enough to have an Inn, so chances are we won't have to dare the cold again tonight." 

   Saville, turning back towards his tent, stopped abruptly. Turning back towards the 23rd, he smiled at Farrah. "Farrah - try to contain your excitement - you'll be paying for tonight's meal." 

  The men smiled, while Farrah only groaned. "Yes, commander." 

   ~**~

   As Elaine had predicted, the morning had been an absolute storm of townspeople. It began with the blacksmith, who greeted Elaine warmly, and sat down only to request a ham roll with cheese and a light ale. She had always liked him, for he was one of the few who could relate to her frustration. He too, had only known work. And in that way, they both understood each other. 

   Following the blacksmith, many of the guests had awoken and requested bread, tea, or both. Soon the Woodard family arrived, the widowed Kate and her six children. With the death of their father over a year ago, Kate, only twenty-six, supported her children the best she could. Needless to say, the children were deprived of many holiday gifts. Elaine did what she could -- secretly sending any extra perishables to them at the end of the day. She never would accept payment for their morning meal, even at Kate's protest. Elaine suspected Burne knew, but he wouldn't dare bring it up. He was a decent man. 

   The children clung to her robes all day while Kate went to work selling garments. The oldest two, Jacob and Sarah, were eight and ten. They both helped her serve and had fun getting wet while doing the dishes. The younger ones, ranging in age from two to six, followed her in a single line, mimicking her actions. Those who knew the children and their unfortunate situation found it amusing, patting the young children on the heads, and offering pieces of candy. Others, the stingy merchants rather, found it annoying and said so. Elaine smiled politely, apologized, and secretly charged them extra on their tabs.  

   The crowds continued to come and go, never allowing Elaine a minute's break. She didn't mind - not today - the children were fun. Only in the last hour before sunset did things begin to slow down. It would only be momentarily, for the hard drinkers and late workers would soon arrive. 

    Kate had come back for the children and they had begged to stay. She finally took the two youngest home, leaving the others until nightfall. In the later hours of the night, the Inn only served ale, whiskey, and wine from the tavern. Once she was off, she would bring the remaining children home. 

   It was during this quiet hour that Burne called for her. "Lass? A word." 

   Elaine nodded, finished clearing an abandoned table, and handed the dishes to Jacob. Walking over to the tavern counter, Elaine stood before Burne. "Hmm?" 

   "I know this ain't what a lass your age tends to want, an' I know yer havin' trouble doin' it by yourself. I ain't blind, an' Harriet would hang me if she saw ye doin' it all. Those two --." He nodded toward Jacob and Sarah. "Ye think they'd wanna work here in the mornin' with ye? We be busiest then, except durin' the night marks. Nay, they too young workin' after the morning." 

   Elaine grinned. "I'll work them in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes. Thanks." 

  He grunted. "Ye might as well give um' baths while they in there. They get seven shillings a week. If they workin' hard - an I'll know if they are - might give um' an extra shilling. Aye?"

   Elaine nodded. Burne looked around before starting again. His voice was low. "Aye, Conrad met some lads down near Crowsbay - down in them' bad parts. Met them this mornin' an Conrad plans on bringin' them in for drinks. I don't like um, lass. Keep a good eye." 

   She nodded. Conrad Fairgo was Burne's pathetic excuse of a son. Four years older than Elaine, he was nineteen with a personality of a two year old. It was he who was supposed to work at the Inn, but he wasn't worth a damn. Surprisingly, Elaine was sure Burne thought the same. 

   Crowsbay was north of Poshbrook by six miles. It was a town of whores, thieves, rapists, and murderers. Elaine turned to look at Jacob and Sarah. Laughing, Sarah chased Jacob into the kitchen as she waved a ladle above her head, while Kelsey tickled her younger brother Thomas. 

   Yes, she would _definitely_ keep a good eye.  

  ~**~

   Beginning right after sunset, the roar of hearty laughter was enormous. The ale flowed freely and again the number of customers began to increase. Elaine had to smile as the blacksmith walked in for the second time that day. Nodding towards her, he took his unoccupied corner seat. 

   Her attention was drawn as someone yelled for more ale. Looking towards the left, Elaine couldn't help but gag in disgust. There sat Conrad and his five cronies from Crowsbay, a rowdy and dangerous crowd. Elaine didn't like the thought. _'Dangerously drunk. I can see what Burne meant.' _

Again, she heard them yell for her. Reluctantly, she walked over. A bulk of a man in his early twenties, the group's leader no doubt, grinned at Elaine with interest. Elaine could have vomited. _'Wipe that look off your face, or I'll do it for you.'_

"Conrad, you never told me your sister was so lusty." He said absently, his eyes tracing her figure. His cronies laughed. Conrad sneered. 

  Elaine bit her tongue. She couldn't openly fight him back - not now. Let him put one hand on her - she hand know doubt he'd try - then she could justify her actions. 

  "She's not my sister, only a bastard wench left behind." Conrad said, glaring at her. Conrad wasn't a pleasant sight to look at. His head was as disproportioned as his body was. Acne scared skin, he had black eyes and scarlet lips. 

  The leader laughed. "All the better then. Has she shared your bed?" 

   Conrad blushed. No, of course she hadn't, and neither had any other woman. "She's not worth it." 

    The leader licked his lips. "I can judge that tonight." He slipped his hand over the outside of Elaine's thigh. She smiled flirtatiously at him and put her hand on his. Her hand in the right position, she grabbed his index finger, dug her nails into the web, a twisted. He hollered in pain and jerked his hand back. 

   She smiled pertly at him. "Dare put your hands on me again, and I'll break them." She whispered sweetly, disgusted. 

   He glared at her venomously. "A whore not fit for anyone's bed." He spit. "A round of ale bitch."

     _'Glad to hear it, if men are all like you.'   _Elaine thought crossly, as she walked back towards the kitchen. _'Mithros - isn't there a decent --.'_

Motion on her left caught her eye. Turning, she gaped - as did Burne, who was always watching the entrance. Standing twenty feet from Elaine stood four men and a woman, wearing black tunics and tan breeches. They wore the insignia of the Queen of Tortall. They were _Riders_. 

   ~**~

   Elaine had never seen a Rider, but she knew enough from her friend Nathan to recognize one. They were different from realm guards and knights, although they were similar to the Own. They were quick combat teams that could move quickly, each group consisting of five to seven Riders. They were stationed in Corus, but went where they were needed.   

_ 'Must be coming back from somewhere. We aren't in dire need of any extra warriors.' _ Elaine concluded, watching them intently. The Riders, once inside, turned toward a beckoningBurne, who smiled genuinely.

   Elaine scoffed, then grinned.  _'It would be like Burne to sweet talk his most important visitors.'  _

   The Riders approached the Tavern counter and conversed with the ever-smiling Burne. Conrad and his convicts seemed not to notice. For a moment, Elaine studied the Riders. Elaine had to admit they were a handsome team. The oldest male, looking to be about fifty, had graying black hair and hazel eyes. His figure was toned and he had a two-inch fading scar on his right cheekbone. _'Definitely the commander.'  _

   She observed a younger man in his mid-thirties, who seemed intelligent. He was tall, sleek, and friendly. With brown hair and sapphire eyes, he played the part of a handsome gentleman. The next man she examined was one to swoon over. Jet-black hair and penetrating royal blue eyes, he was good-humored and definitely had a dashing smile. He was in his mid-twenties and had a darker, ash skin. The sole woman in the group was surprisingly young, being at oldest nineteen. Her blonde hair was pulled up and messily pinned. Her eyes were the darkest of greens, a color Elaine had trouble liking. She had full lips and a slim build._ 'So definitely a noble.' _ 

   The older man still talking to Burne, Elaine found herself examining the last man. She immediately took a liking to him. Tall and muscular, the blonde had humorous blue eyes. He smiled at his comrades and looked curiously around. Their eyes met. 

  The man grinned in Elaine's direction. Elaine found herself smiling back. Getting a better look at him, she realized that he was the same age as Nathan - roughly twenty. _'And just as handsome.' _ It was only when Thomas grabbed her side that she looked down. He pointed to the man. "Is he a Rider? Sarah says so, but where's his pony?" He asked, starring at the Rider intently. 

   Elaine looked back at the Rider, who looked at her with curiosity, obviously realizing that he was the subject of their conversation. She shrugged. Looking down at the five year old, she ruffled his hair. "Having tea with the other ponies, of course." She said, grinning as his jaw dropped in surprise. Glancing once more at the Rider, she pushed Thomas towards the kitchen. "Come on. I'll get you a sugar apple." 

~**~

  Elaine had watched the Rider's throughout the evening. Sarah and Jacob had brought their packs upstairs - they would be guests of the Inn until the cold spell ceased. Elaine felt a jolt of excitement run through her veins at the news, hoping that she would have time to converse with them before they left. 

   Surprisingly, she seemed to be getting the chance that very night. Burne approached her. "Take their requests." 

  Elaine jumped - she had been watching the Riders from a distance. "What?" 

   "Take their requests."  He said.  

   Elaine raised an eyebrow. Burne always took the meal requests of anyone high in rank. Burne sighed. "They're important an' ye have better speech than I. Ye do it alright, I s'pose."   

  Elaine nodded. That made sense. They sat at a secluded table, scrunched with extra chairs to fit all of them. Elaine shook her head in amusement and walked over to them, Thomas and Kelsey following her curiously. 

   The first to notice her was the older man, who smiled. Once she had his attention, they all turned. The blonde, who had caught her attention before, grinned. She bowed her head in respect. "Pleased to be at your service, my lord." She said to the older man. 

  "And your service is welcomed, our thanks." He said in a strong voice. 

   "Have you any requests?" She asked, smiling as the woman glared at her. _'She seems pleasant.'_

 They already had their ale and tea, most of the requests being for turkey, fruits, and rolls. She took them courteously and the children each hung loosely to each leg. Once done with the requests, she felt a small nudge on her left leg. Looking down she saw Thomas looking up to her, as if wanting to talk. She smiled, pried him loose from her leg, and pushed him in front of her. 

  Looking at the interesting blonde, he squinted his eyes. "Does your pony drink tea?" 

  The blonde grinned wolfishly. "Only with sugar." 

    Thomas gaped. 

   Elaine smiled. 

  "You little whore!" Someone screeched, gaining immediate attention from Elaine. She whipped around, as did most of the tavern. Near the door stood a horrified Sarah holding a spilled glass of ale. Elaine looked on furiously as she saw one of the drunken Crowsbay bastards stand up, kicking his chair. He tunic was soaked through. 

   Only a fool wouldn't have seen what was coming next. Pushing through the crowds of people, Elaine reached the Crowsbay leader before he could act. He's hand throttled backwards, he threw a punch - only to be stopped. Elaine, although only half the size of the goon, had grabbed his wrist. 

  "What the -."  Elaine, livid, didn't let him finish. With all her strength, she stepped on his left foot, the leader howling in pain. Holding his wrist, she twisted it behind his back and grabbed the back of his neck in a tight grasp. She knew for a fact that she had broken more than one of his toes - she had meant to. She had his arm positioned so that if he fought, she could apply pressure, which would break it. 

  _'What kind of foul piece of dung would raise a hand to a child?'  _She knew the answer of course - more than one. However, this man would learn his lesson - she was sure of that. The crowd silent around her, the man swearing, she led him to the entrance and threw him outside, tripping him up as she did so. It being pitch black outside, only his silhouette could be seen as he hit the dirt forcefully. His lungs gasped for breath. Elaine turned to the doorway, now crowded with people, all of which were shocked. That crowd included the other four followers from Crowsbay, Conrad and Burne. Burne didn't look the least bit surprised. In fact, he looked somewhat pleased. Crowsbay folk weren't welcome near his humble business. Conrad, as usual, was pale as milk. 

   "Bitch, you'll learn from me that --." Started one of the bolder followers. He was stopped short.

   "I think you scum have faced enough embarrassment tonight. Go." It was the blacksmith, his voice dangerous. "Spare us, and go back to you straw hut." 

    _'Thank you, friend.'  _Elaine thought, glad that she wouldn't have to pick another fight.  

   The four glared, but obeyed. Walking over to their leader, they helped him up by supporting his weight. Not another word was said as they walked - it was more like a hobble. They turned onto a nearby alley, out of sight. 

   Burne sighed, knowing now was the time to speak up. "My apologies my gents an' ladies. Free rounds on the Inn."  His comment was met with good cheer, and the crowd began to file back into the tavern. Once the crowd was gone, only that curiously handsome Rider stood in the doorway, along with a misty eyed Sarah. 

   Before she could approach them however, she had to deal with an enraged Conrad.  "How dare you make such a performance in front of my guests? You have just made yourself five deadly enemies - and I hope they finish you!" He said vehemently. 

  She let him have his display, because she was about to make him wet in the ears. "Dear Conrad --." She said cutely. "I'm but a mere bastard wench left behind. Therefore, any of my mistakes are held accountable by you - catch my drift?" 

   He paled.

   She wasn't done. "How dare I make such a performance? My sincere regrets. You now have five deadly enemies. Needless to say, I hope they finish you." Her voice was deathly quiet. "If I were you, I'd start running. You should apologize." 

  He glared at her.  "Damn you." With that, he ran after his _guests_.   

   She couldn't help but grin. Turning, the Rider stood, his hands on Sarah's shoulders. Immediately, Sarah ran to her - embracing her tightly. When the young girl finally looked up, she was smiling. "You stepped on his toes! He looked like he was going to cry! Can you teach me to do that?" 

  Elaine laughed. "As long as you don't use it on your brothers."

  Sarah sighed deeply. "Oh alright."

  Elaine shook her head in amusement. Their mother would want them home soon. "Go. We need to get you rascals in bed." 

  Sarah nodded and pointed to the Rider. "This is Evin Larse and he said you were very brave." 

   Elaine smiled down at Sarah, trying not to allow _Evin_ to see her blush. "Well I'm not the Rider am I?" 

  Sarah grunted. "You should be." 

   Elaine laughed, finally having the nerve to look at Evin Larse. Walking over to them, he grinned, and put out a hand. 

  She took it.  "Evin Larse?" She ventured. He nodded.  "I'm Elaine McKinley." 

  He put his hands in his pockets. "Do they come around often?" He was referring to Crowsbay slum. 

    She shook her head. "Never seen them before tonight." 

   He smiled. "I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't have to deal with them again."

  She sighed. "I hope not." She changed the subject. "So you're a Rider?" 

  Before he had a chance to answer, Sarah yawned. He looked at her with a smile and turned his attention back to Elaine. "Would you mind if I accompany you and the scouts back to their home? Those convicts are still in town. I wouldn't want anything to happen to them." He grinned. "You seem as though you can handle yourself." 

   She rubbed her palms together. "If you're up to it."  

  Evin smiled. "We'll find out." 

  ~**~

   Jacob, Sarah, Thomas, and Kelsey mobbed Evin with questions as he walked them home. Their cottage was little less than two streets down, but the kids made for interesting conversation. 

   "Do horses drink wine?" 

  "You'll have to ask one." 

  "Have you ever killed anyone?" 

   "Jacob, you shouldn't ask that!" Elaine scolded. 

   "I heard there is a lady who talks to animals." 

    "I can talk to animals, Sarah." 

    "Can not, Thomas." 

    "Yes I can." 

     "No." 

  "Next question!" Elaine said with a laugh. 

   "Are you married?"

  Evin laughed. "Not yet." 

   "Good." 

   "Can you use a sword? I think Elaine can." 

    "I have one."

  "If they fought, Elaine would lose." 

  "No she wouldn't." 

  "He's a Rider." 

  "But she's _Elaine_. And she can cook." 

  Evin put up his hands in defeat. "I can't compete with that." 

   "Told you." 

  Eventually, after a heated discussion, they decided that if in the case Evin Larse and Elaine McKinley were to fight in a duel, it would be a draw. By the time they had finished with their questions, they had reached their cottage - without any sign of the louts. Both Evin and Elaine said their goodbyes, while Kate ushered the children inside. 

   Without the children, Elaine and Evin walked in silence. For the first time that day, Elaine realized that things were changing. Burne, who had been a stubborn ass all of her sixteen years, was being decent enough, no doubt because of the profit increase. He had hired more help, something he had long refused to do. Conrad would probably always stay an immature brat. Of course, Elaine had no issues with this. Nathan, her _adopted_ brother, was ever the same - the best friend she had grown up with. And now, the more she thought about it, the Riders. They represented something she had not thought of before - freedom. She was realizing more and more that she could not stay in Poshbrook, and that eventually, and hopefully soon, she would be released. She wouldn't mention her parents. She _never_ mentioned her parents. They were gone from her life - they had been since before she could remember. And it would always stay that way. She never denied it. She _never_ denied anything she knew was true. 

  They reached the Basin Inn and Tavern in silence. Evin took in a deep breath. 

  Elaine nodded towards him. "Thank you for the help." 

  He shrugged it off. "It was my pleasure. They're proud of you." 

  Elaine grunted. 

  He flashed a grin. "My comrades probably think I've drowned in my wash-bin, so if you'll excuse my presence tonight, I think they are awaiting me." 

  She nodded. 

   He walked back in to the Tavern, only to turn at the doorway and bow. 

   Elaine smiled, and knowing that she wore breeches, she curtsied anyhow. He nodded in approval and left. 

   Now alone, Elaine looked up at the stars. Yes, things were definitely changing. 

  ~**~

  If that was not the hardest thing I've ever written, I don't know what was. But I did it! Snaps for me.HA! This is dedicated to the wonderful Kenta Divina who is on vacation for a while - we await your return - patiently that is. (She knows me better. I'm never patient.)  Hopefully you catch the drift of a few things. The plot will really begin in the next two chapters. But being me - I'm ever a fan of long beginnings. Ha!

  Cheers. 

  ~ Karr a.k.a. _The Last Name_


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